


Alleyways

by SomehowExisting



Category: Real Person Fiction, Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Bim Trimmer - Freeform - Freeform, Chloroform, Not much but it's there, POV Second Person, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:55:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22414339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomehowExisting/pseuds/SomehowExisting
Summary: Taking a shortcut home sounds like a good idea after a long day. It's not like anything bad could happen, right?... right...?
Kudos: 1





	Alleyways

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second fic I have ever written, the first being lost to the recycle bin years ago. It started out as me wanting to goof about the headcanon that Bimmy boy is small yet he would absolutely beat some poor person up in an alleyway and kidnap them for a snack, but it turned into me actually writing for the first time in years! I think I'm still pretty rusty tbh but oh well, enjoy! :)

You have just exited your local supermarket, groceries in hand and ready to start the walk back home. You had a long day so you decide it'd be best to take a few shortcuts through some alleyways to skip the foot traffic of the busier streets. You've been through them a handful of times with no incident, so nothing bad could possibly happen... right? You start your trip, passing through the first of the four alleys without seeing another human, and exit out onto the street to the other side. You are eager to get home, so you rush to the second alley. 

As you enter into this next alleyway you feel your nerves spike. It's as if you can sense eyes boring into the back of your neck, but upon looking around, you find nothing but the close walls of the two brick buildings on either side of you. You shrug and write it off as your brain overreacting in a suspicious place, ignoring the feeling in favor of continuing your trek home. If your pace is a little faster and your shoulders hunched a little tighter than before, you don't necessarily notice.

You make it through the second alley fine, exiting onto the next street with a breath of relief you didn't realize you'd been holding. You half-heartedly reassure yourself it's all fine with another glance behind yourself. Seeing nothing you move on, consciously keeping a stronger pace than before in an attempt to just. get. home. The third alley is slightly longer, but you enter in anyway, nervous as you are. Something definitely feels off now, you find as your gaze is never still, glancing side to side and often behind you. It's during one of these backwards glances that you find yourself bumping into something, and after stumbling you whip your head back around to find a man. 

He's short, probably in the mid 5 foot range, he has slicked back black hair, rectangular glasses, and a neat black and suit with a white undershirt. He doesn't appear nearly as startled as you are, with a thin smile and an air of smugness about him, arms held behind his back. When he meets your eyes his smile widens, pushing his eyes to a squint. Something about that smile seems somewhat sinister, but it's probably just your nerves making it seem worse than it is. 

The man says nothing, but sticks his hand out. It takes you a few moments to realize he did that in a manner of greeting, but by the time you do he's already pulled his arm back behind him, back to his arms-folded-behind-the-back stance.  
"Bim," the man says.  
"Wha? Oh, uh..." you trail off, not quite wanting to give away your identity to this stranger, especially with the growing nervous feeling that's been lingering with you since the second alley. The man raises an eyebrow. You can't tell if he's questioning or amused, as his face only displays that tight grin from a minute ago. He shrugs after a few seconds of awkward silence on your part, and you breathe an inward you sigh of relief when he doesn't push it.

"You okay there friend? You seem a bit... anxious." he says. It might just be your imagination but his smile seems to shift into something almost self-satisfied and smug.  
"Oh, yeah... I was just taking the backway home, you know how it is." you reply, still wanting to be cautious around this grinning stranger. Your nerves haven't calmed a bit since encountering the man, and they are in fact rising, causing a tight pit of anxiety to form in your chest. You break eye contact with the man, opting to look for a possible easy way out.

"I really should be getting home," you say, raising the grocery bags slightly as if to give support to your reasoning.  
"Oh yes I'm sure. But do you really need to?" The last sentence makes your blood run cold. "I mean, we're having a nice chat aren't we?" That smile, definitely sinister now, broadens, showing teeth clenched tight. Bim takes a step closer, and you flinch back, a feeling of dread rising and weighing like a stone in your gut.  
"I-I need to get home. Please move," you repeat, silently praying you can get out of this unscathed.

His smile falters, one of his eyes twitching slightly. You notice that there's something animalistic in his expression and how he holds himself, the clenched teeth now resembling the bared teeth of a feral mammal on the hunt, shoulders hunched like a cat stalking prey, and his eyes, cold and calculating, staring you down through his glasses.  
"I'm afraid I won't be doing that," he practically growls.

There's barely a second before he's got his arms unfolded, shoving a sweet smelling, damp cloth across the bottom half of your face and getting a secure hold on the back of your neck. You try to struggle, fight back somehow, but his grip is hard and you feel yourself panicking. In your panic you drop your groceries, not thinking that you could have used them as a weapon and instead going to defend yourself from this attacker.

The world is slowly starting to spin after a few minutes of futile struggle as you claw at the man, his suit jacket in the way of actually marking skin. Bim obviously does not want to put up with your struggling, and with a low growl he swings you into a position where your back is against the wall of one of the buildings and forces your head backwards. A sickening crack sounds as your vision blurs, world still spinning as your struggle to free yourself getting increasingly sloppy. The man pulls back, with a satisfied huff as everything fades to black.

**Author's Note:**

> If I decide to write a second part it would probably be in Bim's perspective. I don't know if I'm actually going to, but we'll just wait and see why don't we. Please tell me what you think!!


End file.
